Worlds Clash
by oooSilverWolfooo
Summary: Two worlds. Golden-eyes and cat-shifters. They don't know who she is, only that she came out of the forest, naked, scarred, and covered in blood. She knows what they are; she was taught long ago when she first started training. She was urged away from home and into their territory by the tragedy of her friend, her mentor, to find his killer. Maybe they could help her.
1. Chapter 1

Worlds Clash

Chapter 1

Panting, chest heavily rising and falling, muscles taut from long exertion, the salty stickiness of sweat-moistened movements, and the sickening metallic scent of blood. Trees snap past, splitting open pale skin before the wounds close up just as fast and the heaving breaths dampen the forest noises.

She has to stop the chase.

Her prey had long gotten away anyway, the last wisps of the alluring scent vanishing in this damp wilderness.

She had been running pointlessly, trying to catch up to something that was already gone. She was fool anyway to give chase. How many times has her mentor told her to never go into battle alone if it could be helped? How many times has she ignored it and nearly been killed.

This instance was different though. This one creature had to die.

But she waited too long; the sky opened up and washed the evidence of his presence completely away. She had been tracking him all the way up the west coast only to lose him now!

She spins on the ball of her foot, splashing water that had gathered on the ground, tail lashing in anger. Her teeth gnash together with a feral growl, before her muscles relax and she slumps in defeat.

Dripping sweat and water from the crying sky, she adjusts the straps of her traveling bag to a more comfortable position. She forces her muscles to once again start moving in a slow walk through the wet underbrush.

With the heat of the hunt gone, a new chill starts to set in, caressing her bare skin like a mother's loving hand.

After some time, she comes across a cave in the mountains suitable for her purposes.

She pulls some coarse dear skin blankets from her pack and arranges them over the rocks into a good, soft palette to sleep on.

At sunrise, she will explore the area for any traces of her prey's presence. At high sun, she will hunt and maybe find a stream or river to wash off in.

The blood coating her hands, arms, and down her breasts is starting to make her stomach roll in sickness.

Curled up and protected from the elements, her tail softly flicks as she drifts off to sleep.

Sunrise comes with a soft grey light and though the water stopped falling, the air is so thick with humidity that just stepping outside of her cave has her skin damp.

She leaves her few possessions in the cave with the exception of her knife that is as long as her forearm and has a bone handle wrapped with a thick animal skin grip.

It stays strapped to the outside of her leg- easily accessible if she crouches in a defensive stance.

She darts through the forest in her most natural state of a half-shift, tail sweeping the wet leaves packed in by the water from the heavens, and claws sinking into damp earth or bark when she climbs a tree.

It's easy to loose herself in the smells and sounds of nature, the dampness cool against her naturally hot flesh, the feral glee of supernatural speeds.

All that is wash away, though, when she comes across a familiar endearing scent. It's fresh.

She instinctually twists in the air, easily changing directions and taking off along the new trail.

She slows as the trees open up ahead. The sent is thick and strong, and non-forestry sounds startle the peace.

She creeps closer at a crouch, silent in her clawed feet, and peaks around the moss covered bark.

Seeing the source of smell and noise, her shoulders relax in disappointment, but also fascination.

There is a large human home nestled there, with four yellow eyes playing.

She had, of course, heard of the yellow-eyed blood drinkers. The stories her mentor told her were vast with knowledge and her people's history. She had just always considered them rare. But here four were, playing like a bunch of kits.

A sudden shift in the wind makes her eyes widen as her hair is thrown in front of her shoulders and eyes. A fallen branch cracks as she takes a careless step in retreat, and freezes with an adrenaline thrumming heart.

Though everything on this ground is sodden, the snap was loud enough for even a human to hear.

"Who's there?" The musical voice of one of the males drifts loudly to her enhanced ears.

Should she reveal herself? Will they attack?

"Come on out," another says soothingly. "We won't hurt you."

Strange.

She lets her half-shift fall away to completely human. She feels so naked being completely without her cat, unnatural even. From the age of five when they are first able to transform, they naturally take on a half-shifted state. It's with enhanced senses and speed, sharper teeth, claws in the place of flat human nails, and a tail. Very rarely, if ever, do any of her kind ever fully shift back completely unless forced to cross a human inhabited area. Without any of the characteristics of the cat, her people are as vulnerable as actual humans.

Slowly, she emerges from behind the tree, looking over the expanse of short grass.

There are three males currently, and a female among them. They all wear the typical human garbs that both blood-drinker and human kind tend to use.

Four pair of amber eyes become seven as even more yellow-eyes emerge from the home. Her back stiffens in response to her training.

"Hello," the female with hair the color of fallen leaves says, slowly, concernedly.

All of the golden-eyes' eyes are wide as they look the newcomer over, lingering on the blood She has yet to clean off, and the scars across her torso.

The female with hair the color of the sun's rays takes a slow step forward with a face akin to being stricken.

The movement, no matter how small, has the naked girl crouching low in a defensive position with fingers brushing against the bone handle of her knife.

She knows logically that her blade will do nothing to their stone flesh, but it's an instinct long burned into her muscle memory with a possible threat.

The golden haired blood drinker raises her hands to show she meant no harm in her approach.

"My name's Rosalie," she says slowly, taking an even slower step closer. When the strange girl makes no move other than the constant moving of her eyes, she takes another. "Are you okay? What happened?"

Rosalie looks back at her mother figure and husband in uncertainty when the girl doesn't respond more than a slight shift on the balls of her feet.

Both give her encouraging nods so she faces back to the stranger.

"Are you okay?" She asks again, finally closing half the distance that was between them before stopping completely. "Would you like to come in and clean up? We can help; I promise you'll be safe."

She shoots a helpless look to her mind-reading brother, only to find that the matriarch of the family had ushered all the males into the house. The only one left was the worried looking smallest Cullen.

Again, she faces the intruder to find her slowly rising from her crouch with a curious expression.

Rosalie wants to flinch at the damage done to the young teenager, eying the biggest scar that runs from the left side of her neck, down between her breasts, and ending in a slight curve at the bottom of her rib cage.

She takes an uncertain step closer to the beautiful blood drinker, before taking the hand offered to her.

The smile she gets in response is stunning as she's lead past the female with the hair the color of the sky on the night of a dark moon.

Her instincts scream at her as she enters the enclosed spaces of the home, and she knows it's foolish to let herself be led into the home of a blood drinker, even if they are yellow-eyes, but they seem genuinely kind and she's curious.

* * *

 **A/N: Hey, so if you know me and my stories, you might know that I am currently throwing almost everything I have out here to be read, regardless if I finished it yet, or am planning to. Reviews are always welcome and they _do_ give me inspiration to get back to a story I have lost all interest in. I don't know when I will next update this one, so please be patient but please still read and follow.**

 **~Silver~**


	2. Chapter 2

Worlds Clash

Chapter 2

She's lead through the home and up the stairs and down the hall to a door with a tiny, tiny, room that seems to be covered in smooth rock.

She jerks to a stop as her muscles lock up and physically won't let her go any further. The golden haired girl looks back and gives a soft encouraging smile.

"It's okay," She says, and tugs the cat girl into the room.

She stands back and seemingly waits for something.

Unsure of what to do, the cat in human skin blinks up at the blood drinker.

She frowns and reaches across the girl and twists a knob. There is hissing sound that makes the stranger recoil, and then water streams from seemingly out of nowhere.

The blond watches the other girl gape in awe at the showerhead, with a kind of sadness.

She didn't even know what it was?

The cat girl eagerly clambers into the spray, giggling at the tickling pellets.

It's just like the rain!

She remembers dancing in the rain as a kit, carefree before she was old enough to start training. That's not to say she never had fun, but there is just something different about the simplicity that the joy came from.

She tilts her head up into the warm spray and opens her eyes to stare at the source that the water comes from.

She only realizes the danger of her distraction when a cold hand brushes her shoulders and she snaps her head around to watch as the blood drinker very gently rubs the mud and blood from her skin.

She then grabs a tube of something that smells floral and rubs the paste into her scalp. A purr rumbles in her chest as her head is massaged and she's scratched behind the ears like her momma always did before bed.

She closes her eyes against the suds dripping into them, allowing herself to be bathed and the metallic and earth scents washed away.

Something in the air shifts and she jerks, flinging water as she whirls on the new addition to the small room.

It's the female with hair like the night, holding a pile of human garbs.

"It's okay," the blood drinker named Rosalie coos soothingly. "This is my sister, Alice."

Breathing deeply through her new caution, she relaxes enough to step out of the stone bowl when the water stops with another twist of the knob.

A soft white cotton cloth envelops her.

It dries her of water quickly.

Rosalie, who had been carefully inspecting the young girl since she showed up, pauses in her work to brush her fingers over a burn mark that looks to be a brand. Anger makes her hands shake, but she dare not let her anger out lest she chance hurting the innocent girl.

"The pants are Esme's but I thought your shirt would fit her best," Alice sub-whispers.

The blond gives an almost undetectable nod before throwing the towel on the drying rack.

"You can just put these on and come downstairs when you're finished."

The girl blinks up at her before looking down and gently touching the clothes Alice had set on the counter.

She briefly wonders if the girl even knows what she is saying, but she seems to, so she lets the thought go.

She pulls Alice out of the bathroom and down to the kitchen where everyone else was already waiting.

The blond immediately folds herself into the arms of her husband, seeking comfort from the dark thoughts that present themselves.

Alice was likewise doing the same with her own husband.

"What do you think happened to her?" She asks softly, listening hard to the movements just upstairs.

There is a second before all the vampires turn to the mind reader of the family for answers.

All he can do though, is shrug helplessly.

"Her thoughts are so strange. She doesn't think like a normal human."

"How do you mean, Edward?" Carlisle asks ever curious.

Edward's eyebrows furrow in uncertainty.

"It's like...you know how sometimes there is a word on the tip of your tongue, that no matter how much you try, you can't remember it? You know exactly what the word is, but all you have is the idea of it and it had no solid form? All of her thoughts are kind of like that. She's not thinking in words or pictures like most people, but fragments of ideas. It's almost impossible to make anything out of it."

Strangely, it's not Esme who holds the most concern, but Alice and Rosalie.

"Does she even know English, or any language?"

He nods to Esme's question. "Sometimes, she thinks in full sentences. I've been able to catch 'will they attack' and 'it's like the rain'. I get the impression that a lot of what she is seeing is new to her."

Because they are so focused of the girl, they hear exactly when she comes out of the bathroom, pauses, and starts padding her way down the stairs.

She appears around the corner with a small frown and holds out a small item.

"Where does this go?" She asks, speaking for the first time.

"Oh," Rosalie says, taking the panties. "It goes under your clothes," she explains softly.

"Clothes," she mumbles with a frown, before tugging on the shirt she had unknowingly put on backwards.

It's lifts up past her belly button, revealing just the tips of her breasts, before Rosalie lunges forward to yank it back down with wide eyes.

"Don't change here!"

The cat girl blinks dumbly up at Rose.

"In the bathroom so the boys can't see."

She blinks, turns her attention to the males in the room, and then looks back to Rosalie. She shifts in discomfort with her confusion.

Rosalie's expression softens, and she reaches out to the girl to manually pull her down the to the downstairs bathroom were she helps the stranger back out of her clothes and coaches her on how to put on the garments correctly.

The scarred girl tugs at them uncomfortably, shifting her muscles under the foreign press of material.

Rosalie guides her out of the bathroom and into the kitchen where Esme had prepared a lot of food, unsure how much a human girl would eat.

"What's your name?" Esme asks softly, putting a plate down in front of she cat.

"I am called Bella," she responds, looking strangely at the meal laid out before her. She takes a little sniff at it, and it makes her mouth water, so she digs in, completely bypassing the utensils.

"Bella?" The smallest vampire asks after exchanging glances with her family. "How did you get all that blood on you?"

Bella picks up her glass of water and guzzles it down.

"He killed him. I have to find him."

Edward winces at the bloody images that flash through her mind, snarling, mud, pushing dirt over a body, and a prayer to someone called Sekhmet.

"Do you mind if I examine you? I'm a doctor and I just want to see if you're okay."

It's odd for the she cat to communicate aloud; she hasn't talked this much since she was a kit.

"Okay," she allows. She knows what a doctor is; there are a few in the pride and other tribes.

He guides her up to another room with a large wooden box with white sheets and other strangely shaped rocks that are actually soft to the touch.

The doctor clears the flat wooden slab and asks her to take her clothes off and have a seat on it.

These vampires are weird. Put on the clothes, take off the clothes, don't take them off in front of others, take them off again.

Regardless, she complies. They gave her food, and it tasted better than anything she's ever had, though the green things weren't very good and she avoided those.

"Carlisle, was she..." Rosalie asks hesitantly from down stairs, as she hears the older vampire shuffle around to examine the naked female.

The doctor stops his study of the strange brand on the stranger's shoulder and rounds around to the front.

"Bella, is it alright if I just take a peek down here?"

She bends her knees and spreads her legs, allowing him to see her sex, all the while giving him an odd look.

These are such strange beings.

"It doesn't look like it," the vampire whispers quickly and quietly under his breath. "At lead not recently."

Rosalie, and everyone else waiting impatiently down stairs, breathes a sigh of relief.

"Thank you Bella, you may get dressed again."

He ends up having to awkwardly help her, much like Rosalie had to.

* * *

 **A/N: Hey guys, I'm glad you like my shifter stories; they are pretty fun to write. Please be patient with my updates; I will try my best to keep up with all my stories.**

 **Reviews, as always, do inspire and encourage me and my writing.**

 **~Silver~**


	3. Chapter 3

Worlds Clash

Chapter 3

The coven of yellow-eyes look on helplessly at the young teen as she ambles curiously around the open room downstairs. She touches everything, prodding the couch, feeling the reflective glass of a picture frame, and gaping amazedly in the small mirror hanging from the wall.

At first, when she walked past and caught sight of her reflection, she spooked and skittered away. She waited a few seconds for something to happen, but when nothing did, she slowly slunk forward to examine herself.

After a while, she wanders away to poke at more curious things. She prods the corner of the television set, examining the small buttons in quizzical fascination.

She pushes one of the buttons experimentally, jumping about a foot when it flashes on, and she makes a strange animal like noise like a cat.

The TV blares some sort of hunting show and right then, the hunter fires off a shot. The girl shoots from her defensive crouch, scrambling and slipping over the hardwood floor to find cover behind the couch as another shot is fired off.

Chest heaving, the cat girl digs her nails deep into the soft, strange colored rock she hid behind and peaks around the edge to the hunter in the flat box. Hunters are dangerous to her tribe. Quite a few have been killed by them when they are out hunting, because a well placed bullet is quite affective against a cat. One hits you and you're dead.

The vampires, unconcerned with the human weapons, step into the middle of the room. Rosalie strides over and crouches next to the ridged she-cat.

"It's all right," the yellow-eye says. "It's okay; it's not real. That's called a television and it just shows videos. The hunter isn't really here; he can't hurt you."

Bella shoots her a studying look. After a few seconds, she loosens her claws from the soft rock and peaks over the back of it to the 'television'.

"Emmett, turn it off," Rosalie commands of the biggest vampire. He quickly follows direction, and the screen once again turns black.

"Where are you from?" The doctor asks. "Is there anyone we can call?"

"Call?" Bella asks, hesitant to turn away from the box that doesn't really have a hunter in it. "They won't be able to hear you from here."

More looks are exchanged. "How about you stay here for the night, it's already getting dark," Alice offers.

That cat girl hesitates. She has her cave out in the woods with her things; she should really be going.

But these vampires are so strange and lone vampires are often drawn to others of their kind. Maybe these yellow-eyes know the red-eye that killed Giles.

"Okay," she says.

"Great! I'll show you the room you can stay in," the smallest vampire latches onto the she-cat's arm, ignoring the initial jolt Bella makes at the contact, and tugs her back up the stairs.

She's soon left alone in a large blank room. The door closes and she lets her form fall to the more natural state of half lioness.

Her senses stretch along with her sharpened vision, and she takes in the new details of the room.

Down on the first floor, and unconcerned to her, she is the center of talk, but she doesn't listen in or speculate; she strips of the human garbs, relaxing in her natural skin. The hole in the side of the human home is covered by a clear screen that she fiddles with until it slides out of the way. She then climbs out onto the roof to curl up under the stars.

She wakes to the sound of the door opening, and a gasp. Curious, the cat girl lets her claws retract and hearing dull as the points of her ears become rounded.

Her human hands grip the edge of the roof and she swings into the room she was given.

"What is it?" She asks the vampire call Alice, who gapes at her.

"Where were you? And where are your clothes?!"

The she-cat blinks before pointing to the pile of garbs she had tossed aside last moon. "I was on the roof. I'm sorry; is that not allowed?"

"Er," the yellow-eye shifts uncertainly, unconsciously mimicking a human. "No, it's fine I guess. It's just a little dangerous."

Bella nods. For a human it might be.

"Well, breakfast is ready downstairs if you want to come down."

The cat-girl nods and starts to follow when Alice stops her.

"You should get dressed first though. You really shouldn't walk around naked."

The cat blinks, and nods in understanding. Humans are lewd creatures, so they need to be covered. She is pretending to be human so _she_ needs to be covered.

Alice retreats from the room feeling strangely shaky for a vampire. The family looks up as she enters the kitchen.

"What time is Chief Swan coming over?" She asks as Esme places a platter of food on the table.

"Shouldn't you know already?" Emmett asks confused.

"No," Alice says wearily. "I haven't had a vision since yesterday. It's like they're being blocked."

A stretch of worried silence has everyone stilling. Then Carlisle clears his throat and stands. "He should be here in about a half hour- plenty of time for Bella to eat first. Is she coming down?"

"I am here."

All the vampires turn, startled, to the doorway. Bella enters, hair wild, curious faced, and shirt turned backwards.

No one mentions it.

She finds her old seat at the table and immediately digs into the food in front of her, once again by-passing the utensils.

The seemingly human girl places her grubby hands in her lap once all of her food is gone, and looks up.

"Thank you for the food," she says.

"Bella," Rosalie broaches, pulling out the chair next to the girl and sitting carefully. "Someone is coming here to see you in a few minutes. He's coming to help, okay? He wants to help find your family."

Bella's head tilts in confusion. She knows where her family is; she could find them easily.

"I do not need help finding my family. I need to find someone else."

"Who?" Carlisle asks curiously, drawing closer.

"The one who killed my friend. Have you seen anyone in the past few suns pass through your woods?"

The vampires exchange looks. "Only you," Alice answers. "But Chief Swan can help find your friend's killer, too. It's his job."

The she-cat frowns, ready to decline the offer when there is a knock on the door. She jumps to her feet, scrambling gracefully to the wall to peek around the corner. A shadow shifts in front of the entrance she came through yesterday.

Carlisle quickly goes to it and pulls it open with a polite smile.

"Chief Swan," He takes a human man's hand. "Please come in; thank you so much for coming."

"Of course, Dr. Cullen. Where is she?"

"In the kitchen. This way."

The young girl watches with growing unease as the medicine man leads the human into the eating room. This seems to be getting out of hand; she didn't think the vampires would bring humans into this.

His eyes immediately find her on the edge of the room and he offers a gentle smile.

"Hello, my name is Charlie. What's yours?"

"I am called Bella," the cat responds wearily, but the human keeps his distance. He sits down at the table.

"Would you like to sit down, Bella?"

Looking around and seeing that many of the vampires have left, the disguised girl slowly lowers herself onto a chair.

"How old are you?" The human who is supposed to help catch a vampire asks.

"I am 63 seasons old."

The man's eyes rise in thought. "Almost sixteen then." He shuffles around some papers he brought with him before looking back up at the girl he is certain was kidnapped at a young age. "Where did you come from?" He asks slowly.

Bella points at the wall of windows and to the woods beyond.

"Was there anyone with you?" He leans forward.

She stares at him blankly.

* * *

 **A/N: So I just recently wrote this chapter and I hope you like it. I'll try to write more if I can before college starts. Please let me know what you think.**

 **~Silver~**


	4. Chapter 4

Worlds Clash

Chapter 4

She crouches low in the treetops, staring down with narrowed eyes to the ground below. The elk would be a good kill. It would feed many in the pride.

 _Now?_ the young she-cat questions, clutching the hilt of her bone knife.

 _Wait a little longer,_ Giles responds on the branch just above. He hunches close to the limb, just watching her. _Still your tail, Bella; you have the patience of a kit._

She immediately listens, stilling the subtle flick so that it doesn't rustle against any leaves, cursing herself. It's one of the basic and first lessons you are taught when you start training at 48 season, 12 whole cycles.

Her attention immediately drops back to the elder elk as it steps just beneath the perch.

 _Now_ , her mentor directs, and she immediately drops.

The animal startles at the sudden weight on its back, the claws digging into its hide, but it doesn't have time to take more than two staggering steps before the cat draws her knife deep across its throat. She leaps away as it collapses, blood pouring from its wounds.

She quickly dips her fingers into the crimson and draws them in a line from my prey's forehead to its nose, before grabbing the large head and staring deep into the scared brown eyes.

"May you go forth from here in peace, and find your way to the great wilderness where there is no death and your pain is nonexistent," She whispers the prayer aloud to the animal. She watches as a calm settles in its eyes as the twitching stops and the brown orbs become glassy- lifeless.

She gently places the head back to the blood soaked earth and looks up to her mentor who jumps gracefully from the tree.

 _Excellent, Bella_ , he compliments. She preens under his praise. _Perhaps there will be a time when you will be mentor to one of my kits._

 _Carla is pregnant?_ She smiles wide at the news, but hers could never be as large as the one Giles sports. _That's amazing!_

Kits are always celebrated in the pride because they are so rare. Only two were born in their pride this spring.

 _Lets get back then_ , she turns away with a bounce in her clawed step. _I'm sure you want to be with your mate._

The younger cat stoops to the fallen dear, running her hands over the flank before finally hefting and settling it around her shoulders.

 _Giles?_ she calls, confused, to her mentor when she turns to see him farther away, standing very still and looking into the trees. The female makes a small noise, chirping to draw his attention, and he hold his hand out in a stop gesture.

She becomes uneasy as he scans the top of the trees, nose twitching. She starts to bend to gently lower the carcass to the dirt when there is a flash of white.

"Giles!" The body drops as there is a crack of broken bones. Her mentor, her friend, yowls- just a blur of teeth and pearly marble skin. The fight is so fast that she can hardly keep track of which is cat, Giles having shifted, and which is vampire.

She phases quickly when she smells blood, and gathering her wits, lunges into the fight, claws splayed and slashing.

She catches the vampire by surprise, but then the red eye is dodging and the young lioness can hardly sink her claws into him.

He lunges away, skidding a few feet and doesn't come back in for another attack, eyeing them wearily. Her heart pounds as she sees blood on the corner of his mouth and staining his teeth when he grins. Then he turns and flees.

She takes a step in pursuit, before going ridged at her mentor's voice, aloud.

"Bella, don't."

She whirls to her friend, crying out and shifting when she sees him collapsed to the earth. She's at his side in an instant, cradling his head and pressing her hands over one of the bloody wounds.

 _It-it'll be alright. You'll be okay_ , her voice cracks even in her own thoughts as a strangled noise comes from her closing throat. _We can get you back and the healers can help you._

 _Bella_ , he tries to sooth, but his grimace in pain does little to calm his charge. _The camp is miles away, we won't make it. It's okay._

"It's not, it's not," she sobs, "What about Carla? What about the baby?"

His face scrunches in pain, and she doesn't know whether it's from the venom or her words. A vampire bite is deadly to a shifter. The venom will kill them in minutes if not treated immediately. It's rare that a shifter ever gets help in time.

 _She'll die, too_ , she reminds him, clutching more firmly at his wounds and wishing more than anything, at this moment, that she had been chosen for medicine.

A shifter can not survive without its mate. The bond won't allow it. They can live, for a few months maybe, but eventually their body will brake down and give out- if they don't immediately kill themselves in heartbreak.

He throws his head back, moaning, and the black veins bulging to the surface of his skin is the scariest thing she's ever seen.

 _Please, please, please don't die._

She hugs him, uncaring of the blood transferring to her.

 _If they survive,_ he pants _, take care of my kits._

 _I will, I will, I promise_. His hand slides from her shoulder to the grass, and she can hear his speeding heart going too fast, trying to fight the toxins. The she-cat yowls in grief when it finally gives out, and stops completely.

With a trembling hand, she pulls back and gently closes his sightless eyes before drawing a line from his hairline to the tip of his nose. She places her forehead against his chilling one, sucking in a shaky breath.

"May you go forth from here in peace, and find your way to the great wilderness where there is no death and your pain is nonexistent."

She sits back on her heels, tears silent now, in silent vigil for her friend. When morning comes, as is custom, she rises and start digging, first with her hands, then with her paws, until there is a deep hole.

When she finishes, she tugs the body into it with her, gently lowering him and placing a kiss on his chilly skin.

With that final goodbye, she buries him and rises, covered head to toe in dirt and blood, with the scent of death in her nose.

Even through that fog, she can still smell the sweet scent of the male vampire, curling from the path he went.

Rage seers through her chest.

She scales the tree and pull out her bag, tucked into the branches, leaving the other untouched. _I will be back_ , she promises the grave before turning to the path that she sees, like a trail of colored smoke.

She charges into the trees, following her mentor's murderer.

...

"My teacher," she finally responds to the human male, anxiety and grief rising as she clutches her hands into fists. She has to fight to pull back her claws, and the wounds in her hands close in seconds. She carefully wipes the blood residue onto the human grabs encasing her legs.

"Where is he now?" The human, 'Chief Swan,' ask gently.

The cat shifter remains silent, unwilling to bring the man into her confidence. He would get himself killed, or drive himself mad looking for something he could never hope to find.

The Chief sighs, laying down his pen and looking over at the seemingly young human girl.

He had spent over an hour before he came here, looking over files on unsolved missing children cases for as young as three months up to six years of age.

In his eyes, this young girl has obviously been held captive. She sits stiffly, and her eyes dart around the room to all the corners, her eyes straying to the exits (namely the wall of windows). Her eyes, though hidden, hold a sadness and anger.

He doesn't know who took the girl or how she escaped, but he will find the man who did this to her. The good thing is that she is safe now, and though signs of abuse, Carlisle told him there were no recent signs of rape.

It would be so much easier if she were to cooperate, though.

"I'm here to help, Bella. Anything you can tell me at all of where you were, would help greatly. You're safe now."

The girl remains unmoved, back straight and hands fisted under the table.

She doesn't seem like a typical abused child, he muses as he tiredly stands from the table to go in search of the doctor. She isn't meek, rather she stares him down, unflinching.

This case is already rather perplexing, starting with a girl, covered in blood that isn't her own, walking out of the woods.

"How did it go?" Carlisle asks, meeting him in the entrance hall.

Charlie Swan sign, rubbing a hand down is face to rub at his jaw.

"Not very well, she won't say anything."

The doctor frowns, having known the answer already, but confused. The girl had been rather forthcoming to his family when they asked questions.

"I hate to ask this of you, Carlisle, but she seems to have taken to your family. I don't think moving her would be best. Do you think, perhaps, just for a few days you could-"

"Of course," the vampire rushes to assure. "We'd be happy to have her here as long as it takes."

The Chief smiles, glad to have one less worry during this case.

* * *

 **A/N: So, you have just a little bit of Cat culture in this. More information will come in future chapters, especially things on mating.**

 **The poor Chief wont get very far in this case...**

 **Please review!**

 **~Silver~**


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